


Proposition

by Blank_Ideas



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blank_Ideas/pseuds/Blank_Ideas
Summary: Things are strange and complicated between them, but Jonah is curious and Mordechai is indulgent at times.
Relationships: Mordechai Lukas/Jonah Magnus
Kudos: 18





	Proposition

There is a manor within the countryside of Kent, broad and tall enough when up close yet vaguely squat from a distance, as though the dimensions of it’s grand design shifted and changed with proximity. Not a kaleidoscope, not really, as the dark brick remained strong and stark, unchanging, against the paltry green of the grass of the grounds around- dead before ever living really and perpetually short.

The grass audibly whined, crunching beneath Jonah’s shoes as he stepped across it, leaving the warmth of his carriage and trading it for the perpetually damp cool of the Lukas’s family grounds as he crossed the pathless gap towards the house and it’s ever intimidating wooden door. He was old enough to know why it was always so frigid and lung stripping here, why this was the ground's nature, but he didn’t suppose he’d ever figure out how- Mordechai would not give him the leeway to explore such information. It was always this way, little droplets of information that would be smoothed over the searing questions that burnished his feverish mind, but never would enough be given to quiet the inherent flame that roared just beneath his eyes and hungered for knowledge. Constant teasing. As if it were a game to Mordechai, who smiled about it, this teasing that grated Jonah’s nerves, his large hands cupped Jonah’s cheeks as he kissed him, pressed his smug tilted lips into the creases of Jonah’s forehead- Jonah supposed it was his reward for asking such obscure questions.

Still, Jonah crossed the grounds and did not leave his coat by the door when asked for it by one of the many servants that milled about the new estate so silently and unknowably. Jonah hadn’t recognised the servant, the young lady was most likely an orphan and would be swallowed up quickly enough for all her efforts, this was how things went within the Lukas manor. However young the name was, an old dynasty broken for the renewal of something ancient and sacred, the house seemed timeless. Another aspect of Mordechai’s life he would never be granted the opportunity to dissect but an interesting one all the same, to ask questions about it’s long winding halls or to explore it’s all too small yet all too empty nooks and crannies, these were not actions Jonah could take and to simply try as much would reward him with firmer kisses upon the backs of his knuckles and a lack of response to any further correspondence for some months. Seven if he was lucky.  
He moved further, finding no point in dallying as his impatience caught up to him while he found his way through the ever labyrinthine maze of the house, often he’d gotten lost in younger days but now, with time or experience he supposed, he knew the way and did not struggle so much. 

Mordechai was there, where he was expected to be, seated in his study and hiding amongst his books and tomes, entirely ignorant of the world that buzzed about him as he made his way through one text despite having another open across the desk. Opening the door with little care to knock, Jonah smiled at the immediate stiffness that hunched Mordechai’s shoulders. Not ignorant, more so ignoring.   
Jonah pulled at the armchair before the fireplace. Letting himself drop into it without a word as he slung his lanky legs over the arm and let his head rest against where his back should be, sharp eyes observing Mordechai with a softened yet curious expression over the rims of his glasses. Placing his book down and closing it’s dusty cover, Mordechai bristled slightly beneath such an intentless yet heavy stare as Jonah smiled cattishly back at his grimace. No longer ignorant and struggling to ignore.

“Mr Magnus, how can I help you?” Mordechaii’s deep voice reverberated forth from his chest, easily filling the silence that had poured thickly within the room and pleasing Jonah immensely at the sound of it’s exasperated yet indulgent tone.

Making no movement to shift from his undignified manner of sitting, Jonah hummed lowly and tapped his chin playfully. “Mmm, yes, I was wondering that myself.” Mordechai rolled his eyes at him, the older man pushing himself up from his desk to approach the chair in which Jonah lounged. “You’ve been so distant recently, and I was bored and curious as you know I often am. So i started thinking-”

“Not something you often do.” Mordechai rumbled, stood over the back of the chair and let his arm cushion his head atop it’s high, stiff pillow. He was silenced by a quick glare from Jonah’s listless eyes.

“About that party we went to, you know the one I’m sure- pretty paintings and such lovely musicians.” He grinned as Mordechai frowned and reached up, warm palm gently patting the frozen cheek not so far above him that it took a full extension of his arm, just close enough that his long fingers could theft the reading glasses from Mordechai’s nose and play with the limbs closer to his chest, eyes finally wavering from the steadily more discomforted man. “Yes, yes, don’t frown like that. Albrecht is a good friend to us both. Well, I was thinking about how as usual you stood by the sidelines, ever seeming encumbered by the sheer notion of spending time with those who you must. Now usually I align this to your, albeit charming, ineptitude in most social forms. But now the thought has occurred to me.”

Jonah paused, not for dramatic tension or anything but purely because Mordechai had plucked his own glasses from his nose, thefting Jonah’s clear vision with this movement and holding them above his head as if having decided that mimicking Jonah to the shorter male’s annoyance, was more important than whatever he was rambling about.  
“Do you even know how to dance, Mordechai sweetness?”

Mordechai stilled very slowly.  
“What would be the outcome if I said I didn’t?” He asked very quietly, an almost imperceivable softness lowering his ever grim voice into something so delicate and raw that Jonah’s grin faltered and drew into itself.

“I shall have to teach you then.” He murmured, sitting up the chair despite the twinge in his back from such a movement before pulling his legs off of the arm and standing. His hands were nimble as he folded the arms of Mordechai’s reading glasses and placed them upon the squat table by the chair, his body bent to do so but his head pulled up, eyes filled with hazy vision watching up, looking to Mordechai and at the greying man’s clear anxiety at such a proposition, a small twinkle graced across his lips.

“I’m not keen on that, how long would it take?” Mordechai shifted away from the chair.

“Depends on the dance, hours upon hours to get it perfect.” 

“You know I am not keen on extended contact.”

“Then I shall have to come back, hourly lessons.”

“Perhaps you shall.” It was a simple three words, but all together they formed an invitation, one so wondrous and completely innocent yet all the while laced with implications about Mordechai’s petty game and Jonah’s hunt for answers, despite them and their now more than laborious relationship- this meant more then any closeted kiss or banterous insult.

Jonah did not speak a word, a tenderness too pure for him to defile in such a moment as he swallowed at the lump within his throat and remained silent as Mordechai placed his thefted glasses back upon his nose.


End file.
